Ash In Our Blood Novels & Stories

My chest burned. Milo. My baby. My joy. My shadow. Gone. I closed my eyes. And wished the sea had taken me, too. But it didn’t. And that meant something. It meant I was still here. Which meant Ethan and Sienna hadn’t finished the job. Which meant I still had something they didn’t expect me to have. Time. And vengeance. Because ashes don’t bleed. But they remember how to burn.

Let everything go back to normal. Normal. The word tasted like ash. I turned the water off and stood dripping in the quiet. Steam swirled around me thick and heavy. But I didn’t want normal, all I want is her. And that scared me more than any slap Ethan could throw.

“We survived.” “For now,” I whisper, staring at Matteo’s corpse. “But they’re not done. This was only the first wave.” He pulls me closer. “Then let them come. We’ll burn every last one.” Our eyes meet—darkness against fire—and for a moment, I forget the war, the betrayal, the ghosts. Because even in ruin, we are still us. Bound by blood. Fueled by love twisted into obsession. And tonight, the ashes belong to us.

he says quietly, “that’s where we finish this. Only if you say so.” “I’ll say so,” I answer. “When the world deserves it.” --- POV: Ashmouth --- They buried me under Solara and called it mercy. They call me Ashmouth because prophecy burned my tongue and left smoke where words should be. I don’t die. I rot. I watch. When Hollowfire meets Hollowblood without a priest between them, my chains ache. The silver cracks a hair’s width. I taste light through stone. Laugh until dust falls from the ceiling.

My blood turns to ice,and the last thing I hear before the lights flicker back on is that same soft, velvet voice whispering through the wood: Good girl.

"Why didn't you turn him?" "You think I didn't try?" Ashley was furious and her face burned as the tears ran down her hot cheeks. "I did everything I could to save him. But," her body became wracked with sobs as she recalled the moment, "but he just laid there looking peaceful and everything. He-he wouldn't come back after I drained him and gave him my blood..." her voice hitched as she let out a sob. She turned from Zoe and bolted from the room as fast as she could go.

But inside the room, everything felt so close, so real. “Do you think we can ever escape what we’ve become?” she asked quietly, the question slipping from her lips before she could stop it. “Do you think we can ever be free of the blood we’ve spilled, the lives we’ve destroyed?” Ash didn’t answer immediately. He simply stood, his eyes never leaving hers, and slowly crossed the room. He stopped just a few paces away, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence, but not enough to touch.

“We couldn’t get in touch with the doctors sent by Mr. Reed, so we had to bring in the nearest local doctor. “According to the bloodwork, the doctor said that Mr. Thornton was poisoned, and the poison has spread to his entire system. “It’s not a common toxin. Without the right cure, Mr. Thornton won’t hold on much longer.” Poison? It didn’t make sense. Since nothing like this had ever happened before, I checked the surveillance footage. The cameras caught one of the medical staff making a phone call in the garden. “Ms. Harper, the deed has been done according to your request.” As she spoke, the medical officer walked back to the room, fished out a vial from her pocket, and emptied the liquid

In Ashport, it was no secret that my mom, Celia Gibson, had two families. When she was up in Northline, she stayed with Dad and me. When she was down in Southbank, she cared for the man who once saved her life and his son. Years ago, Arthur Poole stepped in and took a knife that should have struck her when the dock she was at exploded. From that moment, Celia lived as if her life belonged to him. Dad fought with her about it for over a decade. The wealthy in Ashport snickered behind his back, saying Liam Olson was her husband in name only. After all, Dad couldn't even get her to cut ties with her so-called savior. Then, Celia got pregnant with my little sister. Arthur called her, scream

“I only gave Cordelia the power to take any man she wanted!” Killian shouted, his voice cracking apart with pain. “That’s all! I didn’t touch you, I swear! I just opened the door for her!” “Mm-hm,” Victoria said pleasantly, and made another thin, careful cut along his forearm, the way one slices a ribbon from a gift. “Keep going. You’re doing so well.” Outside the old castle, the morning had turned bright and hard. A convoy of black cars rolled up the hill and stopped at the broken gate in a line of dust, and the Blackwood men poured out with vests on and guns raised, ready for a war.